


depth over distance

by daisugass



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, First Time, Long-Distance Relationship, Lots of Angst, M/M, Phone Sex, Underage Drinking, subtle homophobia, yes the college au you guys have been asking for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:31:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4785770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisugass/pseuds/daisugass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He opened his eyes and he was still standing in the middle of his own bedroom in Tokyo, dark with the curtains closed. He picked up a shirt he hadn’t yet worn here and caught just the faintest whiff of Miyagi, and suddenly he felt like crying. He missed it, he missed home and living so far away was <em>so hard.</em> He missed everything about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	depth over distance

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! i want to thank you all for such positive feedback on my first fic ever, you guys are all so nice!! it was a huge confidence boost, honestly, and the one thing that kept me going through this. SO, without further adieu, i present to you the college fic that acts as a sequel to my previous fic, but can stand alone. but i would really appreciate it if you read my other fic, too c:
> 
> most of the inspiration for this fic comes from the song [portugal](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2_G9mfd2zY) by walk the moon but the title is actually from [depth over distance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_bKfDOeePfo) by ben howard

Oikawa knew that getting settled into his new apartment in Tokyo would be a lot of work, but he hadn’t expected it to be anything like this. After an _absolutely wonderful_ (not really) 4 hour train ride from his home to here, he got to his apartment to find out that it took him a full five minutes to get his apartment opened up with his shitty key. The last tenants had left a mess, the movers were late and broke his television (he would be compensated, but what a pain in the ass), and he had _so much_ unpacking to do.

Being an adult really was not a fun experience so far.

At least his roommate, Bokuto, was a decent and helpful guy, offering to help move around the big stuff like his bed, but he quickly ignored Oikawa in favor of getting his own things done with the help of two of his friends, leaving Oikawa all alone to do all of his unpacking. He couldn’t really blame them; he just wished he had friends who would help him too. But they were all back home in Miyagi.

He flopped down onto the couch across from Bokuto and his friend, Kuroo, not really paying them any mind, and groaned. It was already six o’clock and he was exhausted; he just wanted to lie down and watch TV but he _couldn’t_ because it was broken, so he just closed his eyes. But, his phone rang right on cue, and he smiled because he knew that ringtone.

“Iwa-chan, miss me already?” he picked up the phone on the second ring.

There was some crackling over the receiver. “Idiot, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t blow up your apartment already.”

“You have so little faith in me,” he whined, making his way from the living room so he wouldn’t be interrupting Bokuto’s conversation with Kuroo. He made his way to the kitchen, pulling what was left of the food his mother made him and sitting at the bar. “You know, the last time I blew anything up was our second year. And no one ever told me you couldn’t put metal in the microwave.”

“Anyone with half a brain knows that,” Iwaizumi chided, but his scolding sounded different over the phone. “So, how is Tokyo so far?”

Oikawa sighed, taking a bite of his rice. He had arrived in Tokyo four hours ago, and he’d been so busy he hadn’t really had the chance to do anything except start unpacking and talk to Bokuto. “It’s fine. The view is really amazing, my apartment is like on the thirteenth floor. I’ll have to send you a picture.”

“That’s cool,” Iwaizumi said. “What’s your roommate like?”

“Oh, he’s really nice, actually. He seems like he’d be a good roommate, I mean,” Oikawa spoke between bites, “he’s pretty popular, though. Already had two friends over.”

“I have no doubt you’re going to be the same.”

“Yeah, but,” Oikawa sighed. “I don’t have any friends here yet.” He looked out the window at the setting sun, thinking about how different this place was from his home in the country, 442 kilometers away from where he sat. The buildings here were so tall, he felt like an ant in comparison. People covered almost every part of the sidewalk, and there was always noise coming from outside. It wasn’t like he’d never been to a city, but he hadn’t ever _lived_ in one, and he probably wouldn’t get to sleep for months if it was always this busy.

Homesickness was already setting in and he had half a mind to hop on a train back home because he wasn’t really cut out for this kind of life. He already missed the open fields of the farms, being able to sit outside on his roof and just lay there in the peaceful silence. He would miss the quiet mornings, where he would sit in his kitchen with the windows open drinking the homemade tea his mom made, and walking next door to the Iwaizumi’s so he could show Iwaizumi this funny video he saw on his instagram. None of that was going to happen anymore. His new life was going to be loud, and fun, but nothing could replace the feeling home gave him. In a city of over 30 million people, he still managed to feel all alone.

“I’m sure you’ll make friends just fine,” Iwaizumi assured.

“Yeah, but they won’t be you.”

He heard Iwaizumi sigh exasperatedly. “We knew what we were signing up for when you decided to leave. Don’t tell me that you miss me already.”

“Of course I miss you, Iwa-chan, but I can manage just fine here on my own. It’d just be better here with you.” He was aware that Bokuto and Kuroo could hear his conversation clearly, so he got up and went to his room, taking his food with him. “Now, come on, tell me about your day, I want to know everything I missed out on.”

 

\---

 

He spent nearly four hours on the phone with Iwaizumi before he said he should probably get to bed. Even though Oikawa tried dragging out the phone call as long as possible (“Oh no, shittykawa, I am not playing the ‘no you hang up first’ game with someone as stupid as you”), it only ended up being about nine pm when he finally removed his cellphone from his ear, and he sighed loudly. He left his bedroom and wandered back out into the kitchen, looking for something else to snack on before bed.

“Hey, Oikawa,” Bokuto turned around on the couch, half calling him and half just saying hello.

He pulled out some milk bread. “Hey. Did your friend leave?”

On cue, Kuroo rose up from the couch and looked over. “No, sorry. That was a long phone call, though.”

Oikawa shrugged and decided socializing with two spikers on the team wouldn’t be a bad idea, and sat in the living room across from them. “Well, I’ve held longer phone calls, probably.”

Bokuto whistled. “So, who’s Iwa-chan?”

“You got a girlfriend back in Miyagi or something? I heard you were pretty popular,” Kuroo stretched his legs out into Bokuto’s lap and leaned against the armrest. Did he style his hair like that? He couldn’t imagine anyone would, but it did give him a delinquent sort of look. He might be the troublemaker type, like Kyoutani, but he seemed really relaxed, with Bokuto anyway.

“No, uhm, not quite. Iwa-chan is a childhood friend of mine, and, well…” Oikawa didn’t know how to phrase it. They were dating? Technically they were in a long-distance relationship. Was he going to share that information with two people he just met? It was sort of personal, and honestly it was only something he had sorted out with Iwaizumi by text message on the train, so he wasn’t really sure he could divulge the information.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, making him look even more devious than before. Oikawa sighed. “Yeah, we’re dating. But, Iwa-chan is a boy, not a girl, for the record.”

Kuroo and Bokuto exchanged glances. Oikawa panicked, thinking maybe he said something out of place, and he glanced back and forth between them, trying to read their expressions. He realized that while liking boys had never really been a big deal at Aoba Jousai, Tokyo was a whole different batch of people, and maybe they might actually be freaked out by it. _Shit--_

Bokuto grinned at him. “Welcome to the club.”

“Huh?” both him and Kuroo asked.

“You and Kuroo both, the being in super gay love with your childhood friend club,” he teased and Kuroo shoved a pillow in his face, yelling something about how he should shut his big mouth and it wasn’t like that between him and whoever this Kenma person was, a blush on his face. Oikawa laughed despite himself, both out of relief and amusement at this pair of obviously very close friends. It reminded him of himself and Iwaizumi, just a little, and he felt a pang in his heart because that was something else he would be missing out on, for the next several months at least. But he could live with it, because it was for the best for both of them, he supposed, or rather, he told himself, because thinking any other way would only make him more upset.

He knew they would grow from this.

The days passed by quickly, which was a relief to Oikawa. His schedule was always full, but between volleyball practice, classes, and socializing, Oikawa always made sure he found time to talk on the phone, Skype, text, Snapchat, any way he could contact Iwaizumi, he did it. He always made sure to send snaps of his lunch, a selfie, his bedhead, and Iwaizumi would screenshot each one. He would text about how he burned his breakfast and Iwaizumi would lecture him about how he needed to eat before going to his morning classes, and at night when the day was through, Oikawa would flop down on his bed, totally drained from all energy and ready to pass out, when his phone would buzz and he picked up, just a little part of him revitalized at hearing Iwaizumi’s voice on the other end. They spoke quietly into the late hours of the night; some nights they barely spoke at all, just listening to the other breathe and desperately wishing, imagining that the other was there next to them, sleeping quietly in bed.

It was a painful, learning process, but he managed to get through it, though not without wishing every single day that Iwaizumi could be there next to him, that he would walk into his kitchen and it would be Iwaizumi standing shirtless in his kitchen and not Bokuto stealing his leftovers again. As much as he loved hearing about Iwaizumi and his day and his own roommate (who was actually somebody who had gone to Karasuno, much to Oikawa’s surprise), part of him wanted to yell and say that it should be him, that he missed him more than words could describe, that he hated the smoggy Tokyo air and longed for laying out in the vast expanse of their connected backyards. But he didn’t say any of that, and he managed to get through it.

The volleyball team was different, too, and there were so many others and he was near the worst of the players, but he practiced hard to improve like always, promising Iwaizumi he wouldn’t let old teenage insecurities get the best of him. He had Bokuto and Kuroo as spiking partners, and they were nice. Oikawa took a liking to them, their shenanigans always amusing if not anything, reminding him of all the trouble Hanamaki and Matsukawa would get into for goofing off. Bokuto was always energetic, but easy to toss to, and Kuroo, though more elusive, was easier to read and they clicked easily. They all worked hard to get the attention of the coaches, hoping they would get put in a match, even for a little bit.

Oikawa was the only one who was put in a match, in fact, not as a setter but as a pinch server. He served twice, the first a service ace, and he wouldn’t forget the feeling it gave him, the looks on the other teams bewildered faces as the ball just slammed into the ground with so much force it echoed through the gym, felt it through the floor, a fantastic sense of accomplishment filling him from head to toe knowing that he had worked so hard for this moment to come.

They received the next one, and he knew he still had to work harder.

“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan!” he called him excitedly after the match.

“Hey, Oikawa, I’m in the middle of class,” he answered in a hushed voice. “I’ll call you back, ok?”

Oikawa couldn’t help but feel a crushing sense of disappointment, like his moment had been stepped on. Moments like that happened often, and each one reminded Oikawa of the lives they led without each other. “Oh. Okay, sorry. Call me back later.”

But he did call him back, and Oikawa got to tell him all about him playing in the match, and Iwaizumi listened with excited ears, amazed that Oikawa was already playing in matches at the college level. He was proud of him, and hearing Iwaizumi say something like that felt better than any feeling the slap of a volleyball could give him.

His practice schedule changed, spending half his time practicing with the other regular pinch servers and the other half tossing to the rest of the first years. He was still improving rapidly, and he was on track to be a regular by next year.

“Hey, big-shot,” Kuroo was sitting on his couch again, watching absolutely awful daytime television. “Wanna get me some food?”

Oikawa raised an apprehensive eyebrow. “Get your own food, Kurocchi,” he grumbled, tacking on the nickname he knew irked him. “Or why don’t you go to your own apartment for once and eat food you bought with your money instead?”

“I already told you, I don’t like my roommate. He’s a giant douche.” Kuroo stood and walked into the kitchen and took some of Oikawa’s leftover chicken udon. He sighed and let him, at this point he didn’t even care. “So, how’s Iwa-chan?”

Oikawa, who was checking his phone, looked up. “Oh, he’s great. I mean,” Oikawa sighed and locked his phone, having no new texts, “it sucks because he’s over 400 kilometers away and I miss him lots, but. We’re doing okay.”

Kuroo nodded, listening attentively, eating. He hummed. “That’s good. I bet your phone bill is ridiculous, though.”

“I don’t even want to think about it.” He groaned and leaned back. “It must be nice, living close to your boyfriend. How’s Kenma?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Kuroo defended uselessly, because even though Oikawa had never actually met Kenma in person, he knew a lovestruck fool when he saw one, and when Kuroo talked about Kenma, he was exactly that. “And he’s just fine. I saw him last weekend and we played smash for hours.”

“So, when are you going to tell him you like him or are you going to avoid it for the rest of your life?”

Kuroo flung a noodle at him. “Shut up. I can’t tell him.”

Oikawa grinned, successful in squeezing information out of Kuroo. “Why not?”

Kuro sighed and waved his hands around, trying to wordlessly express his thoughts, and it reminded him of a day he was sitting on the floor of the Aoba Jousai gymnasium, trying to explain to his own friends that he couldn’t possibly tell Iwaizumi how he felt for fear of ruining their friendship. He knew all too well how Kuroo felt.

“I just… I can’t. There’s no way he’d ever like me back. Wouldn’t it be weird, if he knew I liked him and he just… didn’t?” His hands fell in a defeated manner.

“I know it’s scary, but,” Oikawa smiled at him, “take it from someone who knows exactly where you’re coming from.” Kuroo raised an eyebrow at Oikawa. “It’s not easier keeping it a secret. And, even if he doesn’t like you back, don’t you think you owe him the truth?”

Kuroo nodded slowly, gaze falling down to the floor. Oikawa felt empathetic towards Kuroo, but mostly he felt sad and jealous that Kuroo could just… go see Kenma and confess his love, whenever he wanted to, they could kiss and sleep over while Oikawa was stuck with phone calls and terribly lagging video chats and the feeling of reaching out for somebody that wasn’t there.

Oikawa called Iwaizumi after that conversation. “Hey, Iwa-chan.”

“Hey. What’s up?” Oikawa didn’t usually call in the middle of the day unless something happened.

“Nothing. I just miss you.” His voice was pained, he knew it, but he didn’t bother hiding stuff like that anymore, not with Iwaizumi.

There was a pause, and he closed his eyes, trying to envision what Iwaizumi looked like right now if he were standing in front of him, in his living room he’d only seen in the background of his photos and video calls. He imagined the face Iwaizumi would be making at that moment, the phone pressed to his ear, lips parted slightly in surprise, hazel eyes opened and shining brightly in the sunlight that shone clearly without the haze of the city diluting it, his eyebrows casting a sad twinge to his expression. He could see it so clearly Oikawa thought he must be insane, or maybe he had been magically transported to Iwaizumi, but when he breathed in it still smelled like must and city smog, burned pizza and sweaty practice clothes.

He opened his eyes and he was still standing in the middle of his own bedroom in Tokyo, dark with the curtains closed. He picked up a shirt he hadn’t yet worn here and caught just the faintest whiff of Miyagi, and suddenly he felt like crying. He missed it, he missed home and living so far away was _so hard._ He missed everything about it.

Iwaizumi sighed into the receiver, dragging Oikawa back into reality. “I miss you, too.”

“I’m sorry, were you busy?” Oikawa tried his hardest to hide the tears threatening to show through his voice.

“No,” Iwaizumi breathed, and Oikawa clings to the sound of his voice, but it’s just not the same through a telephone. “I don’t have class for another hour or so. Talk to me.”

Oikawa swallowed hard. “I just, I wish I could see you. I see other people, other couples together and I wish I could do that. It’s stupid, it’s only been, like, two months but it just feels like forever. I hate it.” He flopped down onto his bed, curling up with the phone pressed to his face.

“I know. But we’ll see each other again soon enough, you know.”

“But I want to see you _right now,”_ Oikawa whined, childishly, but truthfully. “Phone calls just aren’t the same.”

“I know.”

“It’s different here. Everyone is different,” he admitted. “Tossing to them doesn’t feel the same as tossing to you.”

There was rustling on the other end of the line, like maybe Iwaizumi was laying down, too. “It’s only for another month, you know. Then the semester will end, and we’ll have all of summer vacation.”

“Yeah, but what if I have to do volleyball stuff? We have games scheduled over vacation, and I’m one of the regular pinch servers now. I have to go to every game.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Iwaizumi assured, and Oikawa forced himself to believe his words. “I want to see you, too. I’ll come visit you, then.”

Oikawa smiled. “Of course. But I don’t think you’d like it here. There are no trees or anything, and it’s always loud.”

“Dumbass. Of course I’d like it there, you’re there.”

 

\---

 

Oikawa had one roommate. He swore he only had one roommate, so why, _why_ was Kuroo always there, taking permanent residence on _his_ couch, eating all _his_ food, controlling _his_ television? Oikawa didn’t want to be rude and potentially wreck the friendship he’d just built with Kuroo, but his patience was really being tested here.

He came home from the most grueling calculus class he’d ever had to find Kuroo there, digging through their fridge once again. That was it. Bokuto wasn’t even home right now, and he’d spent the last few nights sleeping on their couch for no reason at all and still hadn’t cleaned up after himself.

Oikawa walked over and slammed the refrigerator shut, glaring at a shocked Kuroo. He stared him down, and Kuroo glanced around nervously, and backed up. “Do you have nothing better to do than break into people’s houses and steal their food? What happened to your own house, to your own food? You know, I have to pay for that. Bokuto isn’t even home, so _why are you here?”_

Kuroo frowned. “I, uhm.” Oikawa read his expression as distress, and he realized, Kuroo looked really tired. There were bags under his eyes and he’d been wearing the same t-shirt for several days, his forehead was almost permanently creased in worry. Something had happened, and Oikawa’s anger quickly switched to concern. Kuroo  played with the hem of his shirt. “Gah, damnit. I got kicked out, okay?”

Oikawa blinked. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, and leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, sliding down. “Yeah, now I don’t know what to do.”

Oikawa sat down on the floor with him, full of concern for his friend. He knew Kuroo could be confrontational, and a pain in the ass, but… “What happened?”

“I told you he was a douchebag, right? We were arguing, and he just flipped. Slammed me into the wall and told me to get the fuck out, so I did.” He groaned. “I don’t really want to go back, but I have nowhere to go. All my shit is still there, too. I’ve just been avoiding it.”

“Does Bokuto know?” Oikawa asked. “I mean, it’s not the best arrangement, but you could stay here for now, until you find somewhere else. I mean, it’s not like it’s that different, but,” Oikawa glared at him, “pay for your own food. And rent.”

Kuroo smiled, a tired but grateful smile with his eyes closed and head pressed against the wall. “Thanks. I actually haven’t told Bokuto, I haven’t told anyone. I don’t like talking about my problems.” Oikawa frowned at him. “You’re a surprisingly good listener.”

“How is it surprising?” Oikawa exclaimed. “Why wouldn’t I be a great listener, I’m incredibly empathetic.” But he smiled, because, well, it was kinda true. He felt for Kuroo.

“Yeah, okay.” Kuroo sat up and ruffled his already ruffled hair. He looked as though he was about to say something else, but the front door opened and Oikawa rose from behind the counter to see Bokuto. Kuroo rose right after, and Bokuto’s eyebrows raised. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kuroo raced to cut him off, saying, “Gross, no way. Oikawa’s dating someone, and he’s not really my type.”

“Excuse me, I’m everyone’s type.”

“Sorry, my type is shorter, with blond hair and in high school.”

“Don’t say it like that, it makes you sound like a creep!” Oikawa exclaimed. “Wait, Kenma’s blond? I didn’t know that. Is he naturally blond? What does he even look like?”

“I’m sure Kuroo’s got plenty of pictures, he’s a stalker,” Bokuto cajoled, joining them in the kitchen. “I mean, he’s a third year, so it’s not like they have a huge age gap, but when you see Kuroo stand next to Kenma, it does look pretty illegal. Kenma’s so dainty.”

“Does Kenma know what happened?” Oikawa asked.

“What? No way, I can’t tell him.”

“Tell Kenma what?”

“It’s bad to keep secrets from your best friend, Kuroo.”

“Tell Kenma what? What happened?” Bokuto repeated, urgently.

Oikawa gave Kuroo a look, and Kuroo sighed exasperatedly. “I finally got kicked out.”

Bokuto’s expression dropped dramatically into one of worry. “Are you serious, oh my god, what happened? Why didn’t you tell me, bro?”

Kuroo rubbed his neck. “I’m sorry, dude, I just, I didn’t want to bother you with it, I guess. I was gonna figure something out before I told you.”

“Can we go to your apartment, right now? Let’s beat him up. Why did he even kick you out?” Bokuto looked ready to punch somebody, and Oikawa had half a mind to go with him, half a mind to hold him back.

“We got in a fight. Well,” he looked away, “he was being a homophobic asshole and I got pissed and told him to shut the fuck up, and he accused me of being gay and I told him I was. So he kicked me out.”

Bokuto and Oikawa stared at him in silence.

“Let’s go beat him up.”

They did not, in fact, beat Kuroo’s roommate up, because he wasn’t home, but they left a very nasty note on the dry erase board entailing sticking things in places they really should not go, and cleared out all of Kuroo’s stuff, loading it all in one go because Bokuto had a big car, and then stored half of it in their own apartment and half of it at Kuroo’s house. And there, Oikawa met Kenma, who launched his bedroom door open, eyebrows knit together in displeasure.

“Tetsu.” It was the first time Oikawa had ever heard anyone use his given name. Iwaizumi didn’t even use Oikawa’s given name.

“Kenma,” Kuroo looked nervous, but his entire body relaxed upon seeing him.

“Bokuto told me what happened.” He stepped forward, slowly, until he was practically right up against him, his head ducked down so it was almost tucked under Kuroo’s. He really was tiny next to him, not just in height but in stature as well, his shoulders as wide as Kuroo’s torso. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kuroo sighed, his hand gravitating up towards Kenma but dropping before he touched him. Oikawa could tell he wanted to pull him close, he knew that longing pain all too well, he knew exactly how it felt to have somebody so close to you seem so far away, something forbidden. But Kenma closed the gap himself, resting his forehead against Kuroo’s shoulder, his hair hanging and hiding his face from Oikawa and Bokuto, but he couldn’t help but feel he was intruding on something very personal.

“You know I don’t want to worry you,” Kuroo’s hand didn’t hesitate this time, resting on the back of Kenma’s neck and twirling a piece of damaged hair in his finger. Kenma didn’t look up at him, but Oikawa could see the way he leaned into the touch, see the way Kuroo’s dark eyes melted when he looked down at the shorter boy. It was clear where their affections lay.

“You’re stupid,” Kenma mumbled.

“I know,” Kuroo whispered back.

Bokuto cleared his throat loudly, getting both of their attention, and Oikawa punched him for killing the mood. “Uhm, hey, Kenma. How’s it going?”

Kenma looked up at him warily. “I’m fine.” He took a step away from Kuroo, cheeks pink.

Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “Oh,” Kuroo walked over to him, “This is Oikawa, Bokuto’s roommate. Oikawa, meet Kenma.”

Oikawa gave his best smile for his newest companion, and Kenma just sort of… stared back. He was hard to read. “Hi, Kenma-chan.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“Why not, he’s so tiny and cute, I might just steal him away!” Oikawa danced over to Kenma, who stepped back until he crashed into Kuroo. Oikawa threw an arm around him anyways. “Besides, Kenma-chan doesn’t mind, hmm?”

“Uhm. Not really,” he mumbled, and Oikawa thought that might just be his normal speaking volume.

Oikawa grinned triumphantly. Bokuto whined, saying, “What, you got mad at me when I tried calling you that! Why does Oikawa get to?”

Kenma shrugged. “He’s cool.”

“I’m flattered.”

Bokuto pouted. “Well, now that that’s all settled,” Kuroo stepped forward, next to Kenma. “Do you want to help?”

Kenma only shrugged again. “Sure.”

The four of them unloaded the rest of the car quickly, with Bokuto and Kuroo doing most of the heavy lifting themselves (“Well, you can’t make Kenma do it, he’s so precious, and my hands are valuable, you see! What would you guys do if I hurt myself? You don’t want to unleash Iwa-chan’s wrath!”). The other pair spent most of their time chatting-- well, Oikawa did most of the talking, and Kenma provided brief answers to any questions he had. Kenma was a setter, too, a third year at Nekoma High School. He didn’t plan on continuing in college, but he might still play with Kuroo if he asked. Kenma seemed under the impression that Kuroo was growing away from him in college, and they would probably stop talking at some point, because Kenma was only going to go to a community college when Kuroo was at a real university and busy all the time.

“You know, I have a boyfriend,” Oikawa admitted, sitting on the couch with Kenma. He was playing on his PSP, but he seemed like he was listening.

“Really?” he asked, not looking away. “At the college?”

“No, he lives back where I’m from, in Miyagi. His university is in Tome.”

Kenma hummed. “I have a friend from there too. Why didn’t he come with you? Have you not been dating long?”

“No, it’s… well, to tell you the truth, we’ve been together as long as I can remember. We’re childhood friends, like you and Kuroo.” Oikawa sighed loudly and stretched. “Damn, you guys are lucky to be so close after graduation. I wish I could go see Iwa-chan and just play smash for hours.”

“We’re not dating, though,” Kenma mumbled, even quieter than before. He was hard to read, but Oikawa knew a lovestruck fool when he saw one.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

They finally finished unloading and Oikawa jumped up. “Ready to go? I’ve got my early class in the morning, I’ve got to get my beauty sleep! And I think I’ve bothered poor Kenma-chan enough, he looks like he’s ready for bed, too.”

Kenma hummed. “It was nice meeting you. Bye, guys.”

“Bye, Kenma!” Bokuto shouted, and Oikawa waved, both heading for the car. There was an out of earshot exchange shared between Kuroo and Kenma where Kenma reached out for the hem of Kuroo’s shirt, and said something that probably wasn’t for Oikawa’s ears anyway. He smiled and got in the car, and Kuroo joined them soon after, not looking like he had just recieved earth shattering news, but looking happy nonetheless.

Oikawa shook his head. “Kurocchi, you are such an idiot.”

“What?” Kuroo asked defensively.

“I mean, why haven’t you asked Kenma out yet? Like, even I was never that bad with Iwa-chan, and you guys are _bad._ The baddest of the bad, I feel sick just watching you two, am I right, Bokuto?”

Bokuto nodded in agreement. “Man, I’ve been seeing you two like this for years, I might want you guys to get together as bad and you want it.”

Oikawa relaxed in his chair, point made, and pulled out his phone. _I’m starting to feel like a wise old man, Iwa-chan._

 _gross, why’s that?_ he recieved in reply not a minute later.

_I’ve been couple counseling this high schooler and Kuroo, they’re even stupider than we were._

_kuroo’s dating a high schooler? :/_

_No_

_Well, they aren’t dating, but they’re childhood friends, apparently. It’s not what you think._

_oh kinda like us i guess_

_Yeah, and that’s why I’ve been advising them. Even though, their situation is even worse than we ever got haha :P_

_wow sounds really bad_

_i miss you_

Oikawa smiled down at his phone. He couldn’t even count how many times those three words had been exchanged between them in the three months they’d been apart. It wasn’t even like it was that long to be apart, but it was longer than they ever had been, and his life was going by without Iwaizumi by his side, which felt wrong. He wanted to experience his life _with_ Iwaizumi, not just tell him about his day over the phone. The longing was killing him.

_I miss you too._

**Author's Note:**

> gahh ok first chapter yay! there will be 7, most likely, if i don't go overboard like i usually do :P i'll try really hard to keep a regular update schedule, but i'm not going to make any promises, so i'll warn you in advance. But don't worry, i've already written like the first 4 chapters so a new update should be coming in the next few weeks!! thank you for reading, please leave kudos and comments, i would really appreciate it c:
> 
> come say hi on tumblr at [hipster-iwaizumi](http://hipster-iwaizumi.tumblr.com) !


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